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Authors: Peter Hallett
Tags: General Fiction
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underwear.
The hottest of them all was Cynthia. She had long black hair that ran all the way down the striking arch in her back. It was long enough to caress the top of her buoyant and curved butt. It would swing from side to side when she walked, tickling the top of her rump, which itself moved with such sultry grace.
Her breasts were perhaps a little too big for her height, but the perfect size to stand tall and proud, enough of a ways out from her body to highlight how flat her stomach was. They had enough jiggle to be hypnotizing. It didn’t matter if she was in perfectly fitted underwear or loose fitting clothing; they worked their magic on me no matter which way they were adorned.
She had skin that was tanned impeccably and looked to be silk to the touch, when lit by the bulbs around the mirrors in the changing room. The faultless hue of her body was able to cast a glorious glow in any light, though. She had the cutest of faces too, all her features sized to form a magnificent balance of everything that beautiful should be.
It was such a crying shame she was a massive bitch.
I think she was the one that hated me the most out of that particular group of girls. Even the way she looked at me on that day, I knew I disgusted her. I’m not sure why though, just like the others I had a personal trainer, I was in great shape, if I do say so myself.
Sure I was shy, but that didn’t seem enough of a reason to obviously, and overtly, hate me. I wasn’t poor, so the only thing I could put it down to was the color of my skin. To be honest the idea of that being the reason made me desire her even more.
Once, when we were all in the changing rooms, I was able to indulge in an extra long stare at her. She had her back to me, was standing on her own, as was I, and she was wearing a white panty and bra set that I hadn’t seen her in before. The color of the underwear being offset from her own natural tone only served to validate how sexy she was.
She was bending down slightly, at the knees, preparing to pull up some stockings, which I knew would make her even more irresistible. The curve of her butt was stunning; it looked photoshopped, airbrushed to something close to velveteen.
We had a good twenty minutes until I was due on stage, and I was already in costume, so I took myself off to the bathroom and played out a fantasy in my head, based on what had just happened, while I stroked myself to completion in record time.
I don’t think I’d have finished so quickly, and with such force, if it weren’t for the dialogue I’d given her to say in my masturbatory daydream. I’d played on the hate she obviously had for me. I had given her words to say that would have made my ancestors ostracize me from my race.
The teacher, Miss Perkins, entered the room with a clap of her hands. She always did that. It was her way of telling us to shut up and listen. Sometimes it worked immediately, other times she’d have to give a few smacks of flesh to get the look-at-me group to pay attention.
That day, she only had to do it the once. Everyone knew what that evening’s lesson was going to involve, an audition for a student film that was being shot soon, and that was enough of a reason to keep people focused.
“Okay, ladies and gentleman,” she said as she placed her glasses on the end of her nose. “Today I’ll be auditioning you all for Mikey’s film. If my memory serves me correctly, I believe it’s titled, Schooled. The idiot has forgotten to write the name on the script pages.”
Everyone laughed but me. Mikey had a reputation for being an airhead and for an excessive amount of eccentricity, so everyone liked to hear stories that confirmed the clumsy character they’d built up in their minds.
The reason I didn’t laugh wasn’t because I had some loyalty to the guy. I liked him, but I wasn’t above laughing at him, it was because I’d become engrossed in Miss Perkins.
She had bent down at that moment to get the
The hottest of them all was Cynthia. She had long black hair that ran all the way down the striking arch in her back. It was long enough to caress the top of her buoyant and curved butt. It would swing from side to side when she walked, tickling the top of her rump, which itself moved with such sultry grace.
Her breasts were perhaps a little too big for her height, but the perfect size to stand tall and proud, enough of a ways out from her body to highlight how flat her stomach was. They had enough jiggle to be hypnotizing. It didn’t matter if she was in perfectly fitted underwear or loose fitting clothing; they worked their magic on me no matter which way they were adorned.
She had skin that was tanned impeccably and looked to be silk to the touch, when lit by the bulbs around the mirrors in the changing room. The faultless hue of her body was able to cast a glorious glow in any light, though. She had the cutest of faces too, all her features sized to form a magnificent balance of everything that beautiful should be.
It was such a crying shame she was a massive bitch.
I think she was the one that hated me the most out of that particular group of girls. Even the way she looked at me on that day, I knew I disgusted her. I’m not sure why though, just like the others I had a personal trainer, I was in great shape, if I do say so myself.
Sure I was shy, but that didn’t seem enough of a reason to obviously, and overtly, hate me. I wasn’t poor, so the only thing I could put it down to was the color of my skin. To be honest the idea of that being the reason made me desire her even more.
Once, when we were all in the changing rooms, I was able to indulge in an extra long stare at her. She had her back to me, was standing on her own, as was I, and she was wearing a white panty and bra set that I hadn’t seen her in before. The color of the underwear being offset from her own natural tone only served to validate how sexy she was.
She was bending down slightly, at the knees, preparing to pull up some stockings, which I knew would make her even more irresistible. The curve of her butt was stunning; it looked photoshopped, airbrushed to something close to velveteen.
We had a good twenty minutes until I was due on stage, and I was already in costume, so I took myself off to the bathroom and played out a fantasy in my head, based on what had just happened, while I stroked myself to completion in record time.
I don’t think I’d have finished so quickly, and with such force, if it weren’t for the dialogue I’d given her to say in my masturbatory daydream. I’d played on the hate she obviously had for me. I had given her words to say that would have made my ancestors ostracize me from my race.
The teacher, Miss Perkins, entered the room with a clap of her hands. She always did that. It was her way of telling us to shut up and listen. Sometimes it worked immediately, other times she’d have to give a few smacks of flesh to get the look-at-me group to pay attention.
That day, she only had to do it the once. Everyone knew what that evening’s lesson was going to involve, an audition for a student film that was being shot soon, and that was enough of a reason to keep people focused.
“Okay, ladies and gentleman,” she said as she placed her glasses on the end of her nose. “Today I’ll be auditioning you all for Mikey’s film. If my memory serves me correctly, I believe it’s titled, Schooled. The idiot has forgotten to write the name on the script pages.”
Everyone laughed but me. Mikey had a reputation for being an airhead and for an excessive amount of eccentricity, so everyone liked to hear stories that confirmed the clumsy character they’d built up in their minds.
The reason I didn’t laugh wasn’t because I had some loyalty to the guy. I liked him, but I wasn’t above laughing at him, it was because I’d become engrossed in Miss Perkins.
She had bent down at that moment to get the
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